The Descent to Hell
by YeahImThatGirl
Summary: "There had been at least a dozen times since he willingly returned to the island that he could have told her how he really felt. Unfortunately, how he really felt varied drastically depending on the situation." This is my first fanfiction piece so give me a chance! Starts w/ an overview up to 2nd half of season 2 & continues with Oliver & Felicity's POV from there! Please review!
1. Chapter One: Prelude

There had been at least a dozen times since he willingly returned to the island that he could have told her how he really felt. Unfortunately, how he really felt varied drastically depending on the situation.

When he first met Felicity he was handing her a bullet ridden computer, fully prepared for the babbling blonde to pepper him with questions. Instead she looked him in the eyes and got to work. For weeks, she was his secret assistant in tracking down Starling City's criminals and she was none the wiser.

Then when he confronted his mother about her part in the Undertaking and she shot him, it was Felicity's car that he managed to reach. He could have called Diggle and honestly he had survived worse, but for some reason he sought out the assistance of the IT girl.

For countless operations afterwards he reprimanded himself for risking her safety, yet some part deep within him remained grateful for her continued presence. She was reluctant to join his mission, but when he brought Walter back alive he liked to think he gained her trust.

From that point forward he, Diggle, and Felicity operated smoothly as a team. Occasionally there were mishaps. Felicity worked best behind a computer and any time she ventured out it proved dangerous.

Until the night the Glades fell. As he tried to save the city, as he watched Tommy die, and as he prepared to face the accusations that would surely come from Laurel—he had to think about his favorite IT girl, huddled in front of her computer in the basement of a night club located in the heart of the Glades.

Days later he did what play-boy billionaire Oliver Queen does best—he ran. Back to the hell hole of an island he had tried so hard to escape for five years. He had failed his city, his best friend, and his family. The nightmares of the island were easier to handle than the burden of failure. Here, the only thought was survival.

Until, horror of all horrors, that blonde head came bobbing through the most dangerous island in the world. At first he thought he had been hallucinating. It wouldn't have been the first time. Her voice reached him in the trees and for just one moment he allowed himself to dream. Then he heard the click of the landmine and saw Diggle reach to disarm it.

From the exact moment his body lay carefully over hers—the closest proximity he had ever allowed himself to this delicate creature—he knew that when he went back things would be different. He vowed to be careful, to be diligent. He would protect her light and her goodness.

He would protect her.

Until he returned and realized that he couldn't lock her in a bubble. When the Dollmaker grabbed her off the streets, his first reaction was to rip the man limb from limb. His second reaction was to shout at Felicity until she understood how ridiculous he thought her part in this mission was in the first place.

Then when they went to Russia to retrieve Diggle's ex-wife and he watched Felicity's damaged expression as he walked out of Isabel's hotel room he nearly threw himself at her feet and begged her forgiveness. He hadn't realized that he had been actually expressing any of the thoughts that had been plaguing his dreams and his stomach fluttered with hope that possibly Felicity felt the same. Then later in his office when he tried to hint that _she_ was the one he could truly care for, her one concern, as always, was for him and what he deserved. He locked any possible feelings away under the disguise of protecting her and with the knowledge that, although he wasn't sure exactly what he deserved, he knew it wasn't her.

All of those emotions surfaced though when her blue eyes stared crystal clear into his, begging him not to take another life for her sake. After Tommy's death, his first instinct was no longer kill or be killed. His survival, if he was honest with himself, was a matter of indifference. But when the Count held the dual vials to Felicity's throat, the matter of her survival was of first importance. Without thought and without regret three arrows found their target. He seriously considered telling her that night how he felt because it had come into such clear focus mere hours before. She was already at risk because of her association with him and he was selfish enough to want to benefit. Yet when he realized she felt guilty for his actions he crushed his feelings deeper inside once again.

He tried to stay away, to keep his distance, but the clear boundaries of friendship had, at some point, blurred, and he found himself touching her, reaching for her and reassuring himself that she was still there.

And then Barry Freaking Allen came bouncing into Queen's Applied Sciences lab and started talking Greek. Oliver knew that there was something off about his story and as if that wasn't bad enough, Felicity jumped right in as if she and Barry were old friends. And the way he _looked_ at her…

Now Felicity was back from Central City and Oliver couldn't help but think that he had jinxed her. Barry made her happy. The light that Oliver had been slowly stealing from her eyes these last few months Barry had somehow replaced. Oliver couldn't begrudge her that. Except he had and now Barry lay in a coma and Felicity sat in the Arrow cave, stoically looking at her computer.

He would make this right.

_"I'm sorry," he stated, afraid to look away from the weapons that gave him strength._

_"Are you apologizing to me, or were you talking to your quiver?" Felicity snapped._

_He smirked. She wasn't going to make this easy on him, she never did._


	2. Chapter Two: Guardian

_"Does that mean I have a shot," she paused, hoping beyond hope that he would just take the leap and finish her sentence with the words she had been waiting to hear. When he gave her a pained expression she put on her best Girl Friday smile and joked: "…at being employee of the month?"_

_He looked at her and she knew that there was a war that raged within him, constantly, never relenting._

_"No," he said simply and she felt her face fall, she couldn't help it. She was resilient but one can only handle so much rejection. "Because you're more than an employee Felicity," he murmured as he moved closer. "You're my partner."_

_She nodded, because she understood what he was saying. She nodded, because she knew that was what he needed to see._

_"Barry's going to wake up," Oliver muttered, and she sighed, because she knew he only said it because he thought that those words were what she needed to hear, and she did, but there were words that would have made her feel better at that moment—there would have been actions that would have better solidified his apology._

_Because even Barry had noticed how Felicity felt about Oliver. Oliver, who would notice the slightest movement from a mile away and who could pin tennis balls to the foundry wall as they bounced across the foundry floor—that same Oliver couldn't seem to pin Felicity._

Hours later she sat at her desk, replaying his apology in her mind. She was still seated in front of her computers, running updates that had gone unattended while she had spent time at Barry's bedside in Central City. After Oliver had snapped at her, blaming her for missing the chance to catch Shrapnel, she immediately regretted not running the updates sooner. They weren't the cause of losing the criminal, but _anything_ she could have done would have been better than nothing.

"Are you ready to go?" Oliver's voice broke through her reverie. He walked towards her in workout clothes, well what Oliver considered to be workout clothes. He had on pants but no shirt and he went shoe-less, as if his time on the island had hardened more than one soul. He asked quietly trying not to rush her.

"Just waiting for—" her computer dinged, signaling the last update she had been waiting for. "That," she finished. She yawned involuntarily and Oliver smirked, pulling on a pair of shoes and a dark sweatshirt.

"When is the last time you slept Felicity?" he questioned, moving closer. She wasn't sure when it happened, but since he returned from his voluntary trip to Lian Yu he had been slowly getting closer to her—literally.

"Well, I slept last night on the train ride from Central City and then one of the really nice nurses brought in a cot for me to stay in Barry's room in case he woke up so—" she stopped abruptly when Oliver placed him thumb lightly against what she assumed was a dark circle under her left eye.

"I'll walk you to your car," he murmured as he turned to leave, realizing how close they were in proximity.

She gathered her things, used to this routine. Ever since the Count had abducted her while she was trying to obtain information for Oliver's ops, he had been religious about seeing to her safety. He thought that she hadn't noticed, but it was the small things that caught her attention.

"So will you be returning to Central City?" Oliver asked as he opened her door. He was trying to sound nonchalant but he only managed to sound slightly strangled.

"No," she turned to look him in the eyes. Even in heels Oliver stood inches taller than her, but she was desperate to get her point across without actually having to say what she meant. "I mean, Barry is my friend and he is in a coma, but like I said, it's scientifically debated if he even knows I'm there. So yeah, he's my friend, but Oliver, you're my _best_ friend and I'm your partner, remember? We're like partners in crime, except well we fight crime and criminals so I don't really know what that makes us—"

"Felicity!" Oliver interrupted as the smirk that Felicity loved spread across his face. She liked to think that he reserved it especially for her. "Does this mean that you're staying?"

"Of course," she stated. "I still have to try and earn that employee of the month award!" she joked as she sat behind the wheel. Oliver shut the door behind her, shaking his head.

When she made it home her first order of business was lugging her suitcase up the three flights of stairs to her apartment.

The second was putting on her pajamas and checking on her boys. It was a bad habit she started soon after she committed fulltime to the Arrow business. Diggle and Oliver kept her safe physically and it was her job to make sure they were safe technically.

She powered up her tablet and looked for Diggle first. His tracker should be perfectly still, considering he had been shot and should be resting. Just as she expected, it hovered in one spot, centered perfectly in his apartment across town.

She considered _not_ checking on Oliver. He had always been one to take care of himself and occasionally she learned she was better off not knowing where he was, but she was protective of the people she cared about. It was border-line stalking anyway and _really…_

His tracker dot showed across the street, not moving, and if she had to guess there was a perfect view of her bedroom window. It seemed that she wasn't the only one with stalker tendencies.

She smiled as she crawled out of bed in her cozy flannel pants and oversized MIT sweatshirt. She padded over to the window and carefully pulled back the curtains, looking at the spot where the Oliver-dot would be. She smiled, knowing that her very own Guardian Angel would be watching over her tonight while she slept.


	3. Chapter Three: First Level of Hell

_"I didn't snap at my quiver," Oliver quipped. He took a deep breath and stood to face her. He looked at her, truly looked at her and realized what this life had taken out of her. She used to wear dresses that were bright pinks and purples and showed off her legs. Now she was dressed in a navy blue sweater and slacks as if she was trying to save Oliver from his dangerous thoughts. The circles under her eyes were beginning to look permanent._

_"You kind of more than snapped," the heat that had been in her voice earlier had faded. She just sounded tired._

_"I know and I'm sorry," he meant it, he hoped that she knew that he meant it._

_"I understand that this Mirakuru thing has you kind of freaked," Felicity swung her chair so that she was fully facing him. He sighed ready to interrupt, but she continued. "And I have been in Central City a lot," she looked so guilty and he hated it, he hated that he made her feel that way. This was his war and he had somehow dragged her into it._

_"Felicity, it's not that," he wasn't about to let her continue on her guilt trip. "When you are there," he stopped for a moment. He wasn't sure how to put into words how he felt when she was gone, but he had to try. "Well, it just made me realize how much I need you here," she nodded, as if what I was saying wasn't enough. She thought I needed her here because of her IT ability and her brains and her wit and I did, but it was more than that. So I told her everything. I told her I tried to start out alone, but now I relied on them, on her._

_"Does that mean I have a shot," she paused and Oliver almost interrupted with all of the ideas that she had a shot at, but she continued. "…at employee of the month?" she was quirky and joking and Oliver couldn't handle it._

_"No," he said quickly and watched the rejection and disappointment wash over her face. Didn't she know that she was more than an employee by now? "Because you're not my employee, you're my partner."_

_She looked at him, content, but still with a forlorn look in her eyes. He just couldn't seem to make her smile anymore and then he remembered Barry. He had snapped at her earlier about being with him and as much he hated to do it, he brought up Barry, hoping to make her feel better._

_"Barry's going to wake up," he watched as her face changed, almost as if she appreciated his effort, but not the change in conversation._

_"I finally find a guy who is interested and he's struck by lightning, ends up in coma. Typical," she snorts._

_She is so blind. How is it that she can hack federal databases and decrypt the toughest files, but she can't crack him? He tries to offer her words of encouragement, but they are half-hearted. Fortunately she starts to babble about coma patients and dreams and hallucinations. They shake it off, back to normal._

Hours later he finds himself a block from her apartment building. It wasn't something he did frequently, but tonight he couldn't help it. It started after the Dollmaker grabbed her on the streets. She had hit her head and he was worried about her safety; he wanted to be close by if he needed her. Then he came again after the Count nearly killed her. He just needed to be closer to her.

Tonight, like those other nights, he parked behind the old building and scaled the brick to the roof. He perched on the side, counting the windows until he found hers. The light flicked off and he counted his breaths, trying to imagine how long it took her to drift to sleep at night.

Then, as if he had summoned her, she drew back the curtains and looked to the roof where he was perched. He knew that she couldn't see him and he wasn't sure how she knew that he was there, but he smiled nonetheless.

He looked at her face as it glowed in the moonlight a moment longer before it disappeared back into the shadows of her room. He stood straight, knowing that his presence was known to her. For a brief moment he contemplated going to her. She would let him in, he didn't doubt it, but when he was with her he doubted himself—not as the Arrow or as Oliver Queen—but as the man that he had worked so hard to become.

The man she deserved to have.

He lowered himself back to the roof, focusing on her window as he considered her words tonight. She was staying for him, or at least for their mission.

Which led to his next thought: Mirakuru. The only people who were still alive who knew about its existence were Sarah and himself. Sarah knew the danger that the serum posed and she would never infect a city with it.

Slade and Ivo both knew of the serum and they both knew how powerful it was, but Slade and Ivo were dead and their blood was on his hands.

He also knew, though, that the dead very seldom _stayed_ dead when it concerned him. He had returned from the island after five years of being presumably dead. Sarah had returned after the Glades fell to protect her family as a ghost.

It wouldn't be a jump to assume that anyone else could return. It was Purgatory, after all. Supposedly, the deserving escaped.

More and more recently though he was beginning to think that he hadn't escaped, he had just passed through into the first level of hell.


	4. Chapter 4: Greatest Sins

_"You ok?" Diggle's deep baritone offset Felicity's worried soprano. _

_"She really had me believing that Sebastian Blood was a criminal mastermind," Oliver kept his eyes focused on Digg. "And the only reason I nearly believed her was because it was Laurel," at this he dropped his gaze, unable to look at either of his companions. If wearing the hood and mask were his greatest salvation, Laurel might very well be his greatest sin._

_When he finally raised his head to look at Diggle, the man had an understanding look on his face, an expectant look._

_"I do have a blind spot where she is concerned," he stated as he shook his head. "Not anymore," he refused to continue down that path. He had faced most of his demons since he had been home, and she seemed to be one of the last ones left._

_"Way to talk yourself out of a victory," Felicity smirked and Oliver couldn't help it, he smirked back._

_"It's a gift," the look that passed between them lightened the burden on Oliver's shoulders slightly and he was yet again grateful for the IT girl's presence._

Hours later he sat stiffly looking at Felicity's window from a rooftop across the street. He hadn't even changed out of his Arrow outfit. When he had left the foundry, he had told himself he was just going to blow off steam, but when he returned and Felicity was already gone, he made his way back to her apartment.

The sound of light footfalls woke him from his reverie.

"Don't shoot me; I'd really hate to have to kill you," Sara's soft voice floated through the night and Oliver had to smile.

"I wondered where you were tonight," he straightened up, looking at the blonde hair in front of him. It only reminded him of the blonde across the street.

"What are you doing Ollie?" Sara looked at him with her head cocked, her eyes intense through her mask.

"I just needed to think," he muttered. Sara was the last person he felt he needed to explain that to.

"I know, "she said as she came closer. "I came to tell you thank you."

"It was Laurel," he shrugged, knowing this was explanation enough.

"And yet it's not her bedroom you're hiding outside of."

"Sara," his voice warned that she was about to cross a line. And just like always, she didn't care.

"You don't love Laurel Ollie. You owed her. She kept you alive on that god-forsaken island and you owed her for that. I _understand._ But your debt has been paid, tenfold."

"I can't be with someone I care for, Sara. You, of all people should know that!" he wasn't sure if they were talking about Laurel anymore, but the sentiment remained the same. Caring for someone, _loving_ them was a distraction. Slade had taught him that.

"Bull shit!" she shouted right back.

"I can't," he muttered defeated. "Tonight is proof of that. Look at what I was willing to do for Laurel. I almost put an arrow through an innocent man."

"You don't care for Laurel anymore," Sara stated matter-of-factly. "Think about it, Ollie. You claim you can't be with someone you truly care about—or even might care about—and yet you still allowed yourself to be with Laurel."

"Sara—" Oliver started, but then he considered her words. He _didn't_ love Laurel. In fact he barely recognized her anymore and it had nothing to do with her addiction.

"She allowed you to feel guilty—about sleeping with her, about hurting your friendship with Tommy, about not being able to safe him when he died. She was your crutch on that island and you're using her as your crutch here."

"Ok, Sara, I get your point," the anger in his voice was easy to recognize. "It doesn't change the way things are—the way they have to be. I can't allow someone close enough to get hurt."

"Fine Ollie, I know I can't make you see anything you don't want to see. But don't you dare insult that girl's intelligence by assuming that you forced her in any way to help you or your cause," she gestured towards Felicity's window and Oliver turned, bewildered.

"Felicity is—she should have never been involved. She was the most selfish thing I have ever allowed myself," Oliver muttered, a fresh wave of guilt washing over him.

"Like I said, don't insult her. You think that you have a blind spot when it comes to Laurel, well there's no better way to clear a blind spot than with light. I've never met a girl so bright Oliver."

"I know," his voice turned soft as he remembered Felicity's voice telling him to come home earlier in the night. He wondered now what would happen if he were to knock on her window, if she would let him in or turn him away.

"You love her," Sara stated, as if it were obvious, and perhaps it was.

"It doesn't matter," he wouldn't defile her light with his life.

"She loves you, too," Sara whispered.

At that he turned, startled and looked Sara in the eye. He could control how he felt. He would suffer a lifetime if necessary. Living a lie was something he had come to accept, but Felicity? She deserved better.

"No," he whispered, horrified. "She met someone. Barry, he's good, he's—"

"Boring," Sara finished. "At some point, Ollie, you're going to have to choose between losing her and facing your fear. You're not trying to protect her, you're trying to protect yourself—from losing someone else you care about, from failing them."

He looked at the ground, unwilling to admit that she had hit the nail on the head. Sara had always been able to see through people. Her time on the island and with Ivo had only honed her skills.

"Also, a word of warning Oliver, and this is to the Arrow. No man is innocent," she stated, using his words from earlier. "Blood might not have been the man behind the mask, but _something_ doesn't sit right with him. You and I both know the easiest target isn't always the right one. "

"Daily fit the person we were looking for," Oliver stood up straighter. "No offense Sara, but Laurel wasn't the best informant," he said, looking her in the eyes. She didn't even flinch.

"Even so, it doesn't explain how the officer knew of Mirakuru or who would have given him the serum to distribute to the town. Don't let Laurel _continue_ to be a blind spot."

"I'll continue to look into it," he stated, understanding what she was saying. And it _did_ make sense. He wasn't sure why he hadn't realized it earlier.

"Do something about that Ollie," Sara nodded in the direction of Felicity's window and when he turned, he noticed the light now shown from behind the curtains. When he turned back to thank Sara, she had disappeared.

He took a deep breath and the better part of him wanted him to walk away. Unfortunately, the not so great part of him won out as he let an arrow fly towards the window across the street.


	5. Chapter 5: My Last Name

_"What. Color. Are your shoes?" Oliver's voice was deathly serious and for a moment it confused the criminal he was questioning._

_"What –uh – uh blue?" the man stuttered and stammered and finally answered. The wavelengths dashed across her computer screen and she sighed._

_"He's not lying," she could almost feel Oliver's disappointment. She tried to remind herself that it wasn't directed at her._

_After Oliver had escaped the building Felicity heard his voice come over the comm._

_"He's out there, somewhere."_

_"Come home," her voice was soft. In an afterthought it wasn't the most appropriate thing to say, but it seemed to calm him. "We can't do any more tonight."_

_She wasn't sure how she had moved from that moment of semi-peace in the chaos to this one. Oliver had called her telling her that Laurel had been taken and she had dutifully tracked her down. Then she listened helplessly as Oliver and Laurel fought the man in the mask._

_"Get away from her, or I will put. You. Down."_

_It still amazed Felicity that these criminals thought they could go up against the Arrow with guns. Granted, bows were a bit antiquated, but he knew how to use it. She could hear the scuffling and the mental image of the fight that was going on was hopefully far worse than the actual ordeal. _

_Then she heard gun shots go off several times in a row and her heart dropped. When she heard Laurel and Oliver's voices she was surprised and then the realization hit her that Oliver hadn't killed the man, Laurel had._

She flipped the light on in her bedroom several hours later and stood from her bed. Sleep was avoiding her and she didn't believe in self-medicating. She paced the floor, trying to clear her thoughts.

Oliver could draw arrows at an unbelievable speed, not to mention his knife throwing ability and his brute strength. _He was still afraid of killing someone_. Since Tommy, Oliver wouldn't cross that line. Except for her.

There was a sound outside her balcony that made her jump. She hated to admit it, but ever since she learned of the underbelly of Starling City she had become much more cautious. She reached her dresser and found the Smith & Wesson .380 that Diggle had forced her to keep after the first few incidents. Now she was grateful.

There was a rustle outside her balcony and her door slowly slid open. She let out a little gasp as she gripped the gun tighter. She aimed it towards the door and shut her eyes.

"Felcitity!" a familiar voice filled her ears and before she even had a chance to react the gun was out of her hands and she was looking into a pair of liquid blue eyes.

Gorgeous blue eyes.

"Oliver," Felicity sighed.

"Who else would be sneaking into your room in the middle of the night?" he asked, and the idea seemed to upset him more than it should.

"Well considering I was going to shoot you, no one good," she muttered.

"Are you ok?" he looked at her, the look of concern he seemed to reserve specifically for her forming on his face.

"Are you?" she challenged.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

His answer was so brutally honest it took her a second to respond.

"Oliver," she muttered, trying to get a grasp. "You would have let him kill you," it wasn't what she had meant to say and it most certainly wasn't what she wanted to say, but it was what came out of her mouth.

"Felicity," he shut his eyes, and Felicity knew from years of working with him that this was a sign of composure. "I can't live the life of kill or be killed anymore."

"So it wasn't because of Laurel?" yet again Felicity regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

"No," he shook his head. "She is my blind spot, but—" he smirked. "A wise person told me recently that I needed to illuminate my blind spots," he continued to grin, as if enjoying his own personal joke.

"I don't understand," Felicity looked at him, legitimately confused.

"I have a darkness that I'm afraid will just snuff out your light, Felicity," he looked at her and she understood. He saw her as light and she wanted to be that for him.

"There's this amazing thing about light Oliver," she stated, moving slightly closer. "Just the slightest bit will brighten any amount of darkness, but no amount of darkness can blacken light," she grinned back.

He brushed his hands over her shoulders and it was then that she realized she was still in her old sweatpants and MIT sweatshirt.

"Oliver, there's something else," Felicity backed away, needing her space to think. "Laurel might not be the most reliable source, and don't get me wrong, I am _definitely_ not her biggest fan, but there's something more to this Mirakuru stuff—"

"I know," Oliver stated simply. "Like I said, she won't be a blind spot any longer. And you're not her biggest fan huh?" he teased and she couldn't help but flinch.

"I am not the jealous type Oliver Queen! Not that I have anything to be jealous of, but if I did, I would _not_ be jealous of Laurel. I mean really? Your exes are nothing to be jealous of. Helena forced me to hack the FBI database with a crossbow pointed at my chest. Isabel is cruel and heartless. And Laurel now has a drug addition."

"Fine," Oliver rolled his eyes. "Point taken. So what do you think of the Mirakuru situation?"

"I don't know," she shook her head. "But there is definitely more to this then just that one officer. It might not be Blood, but…"

"But it's a good place to start," Oliver muttered. "Keep looking into it and let me know what you find. And Felicity?" Oliver had his classical playboy smirk back

"Um, yes?" she muttered.

"I think—" Oliver was interrupted by the sound of Felicity's alarm clock and whatever Oliver was about to say was lost.

"Oh!" she shouted, leaping across her bed to shut it off before it got louder. She heard Oliver laughing behind her. "We need to be at work in two hours and we have that breakfast meeting with Troll Queen—Isabel I mean Isabel."

"It takes you _two _hours to get ready?" Oliver smirked. "Good thing you have a forgiving boss; skip the breakfast meeting, I'll deal with Ms. Troll Queen. Oh, and Felicity?"

"Yes?" she said as she pulled out a pink dress to wear for the day.

"She is _not_ the woman I want wearing my last name,_"_ he smirked as he walked back towards the balcony. 


	6. Chapter 6: No Man is an Island

A/N: Another "in-between-episodes" chapter because I appreciate all of the follows, favorites, and reviews. Thank you so much for all of the support! This chapter is a bit different from the others. Just a little bro-conversation between Diggle and Oliver!

* * *

"Oliver, if Felicity sees you shooting arrows near her computers, she will kill you. I don't care how good you think you are—crazy women whose babies have been harmed will win every time," Diggle chuckled as he walked down the steps to the foundry. Fortunately, Felicity was at Queen Consolidated dealing with some secretarial paperwork; she might kill Oliver anyway, on principle.

"Her computers just so happen to run through the middle of my archery space," Oliver muttered as an arrow flew between two of the three monitors set up on Felicity's work station. "In my defense," he muttered as he let yet another fly. "I never miss," he turned as the arrow hit his target.

"Don't you think that's a little cocky?" Diggle said as he crossed his arms. "You going to tell me what the hell is going on with you?"

Oliver looked at Digg, really looked at him. Very seldom did Diggle demand Oliver's attention, but when he did, he demanded all of it.

"I don't know," Oliver shrugged. He refused to lie to two people. One of them was Felicity—as much as he possibly could prevent it. The other was Diggle.

"Do you remember what I told you when I first agreed to this task?" Diggle looked at him and Oliver knew that this wasn't a conversation he was going to be able to avoid.

"I remember your hesitancy," Oliver grinned.

"I said that you needed someone, because this is a war you're fighting. You spent so long on Lian Yu that I think you forgot, Oliver, no man is an island, no matter how long he spends on one."

Oliver looked at the man, quite possibly one of his best friends and recalls his words. "_You need someone to remind you who you are, and it's not this thing you're becoming." _Diggle had known, even then, that Oliver would need someone to refocus him.

"I don't know what war I'm fighting anymore, Digg. It used to be my dad's past—with the Undertaking and Malcom. Then it was just about making the city safer. Now my past is catching up to me and Digg, the people—" his voice caught as he thought about Thea, his mother, Diggle, _Felicity._ "The people I care the most about are going to get hurt."

"Oliver, you don't know that—"

"I do," Oliver interrupted. "Because that is how my life works," he finished, shaking his head.

"We all make sacrifices, it's part of this life," Diggle looked at him, trying to see past the mask that Oliver always had in place, even when he wasn't behind the hood.

"The night of the Undertaking, the night the Glades fell and Tommy died, Malcom told me that I couldn't beat him—that he would win because I didn't know what I was fighting for and what I was willing to sacrifice to get it. Later, after Tommy died, I knew exactly what he was willing to sacrifice and I realized I wasn't willing to sacrifice that. Malcom was willing to die for what he believed in and I can do _that_, but to let others pay for it with their lives—that I can't risk."

"Oliver, your problem is that you fight like someone who doesn't fear death—"

"I don't!" Oliver shouted, crashing his bow against the table and shaking Felicity's computers. "I've looked death in the face too frequently to fear it."

"And that will be your downfall!" Diggle shouted back. "Sometimes fearing death is the greatest incentive to stay alive," Diggle looked at him once more, his head slightly cocked. Then he turned and Oliver knew he was off the hook.

"I have reasons to stay alive," Oliver looked at Diggle with that look in his eyes—that look that Diggle knew better than to question.

"Then you better keep her around," Diggle said, and Oliver's eyes flew up to meet his.

"Her?" he looked genuinely confused.

"Your life doesn't seem to matter much to you, but Felicity's? You've shown that you're willing to do just about anything to keep her safe. She's good for you man, that's all I'm saying," Diggle held up his hands as Oliver shot him a murderous look.

"Felicity and I, we are merely friends. She _knows_ that."

"I don't doubt it. She's a smart girl and she seems to be able to keep her heart in check through use of that brilliant brain. You, on the other hand, Oliver, have a tendency to let your heart—or other, parts—run away with you. And if you hurt that girl, I will kill you myself, regardless of how good you think your aim is."


	7. Chapter 7: Dust & Shadows

A/N: So after watching _Tremors_ I picked up on some things with the guy creepily watching Laurel in the bar and who Oliver called after Laurel's drunken scene. I think all of it will play a part in next week's episode! Also, thanks again for all of the support! Hope everyone keeps enjoying and let me know what you think! Oh and also all of that "I don't own anything" stuff which should be obvious, right?

* * *

_The sound of the cell phone vibrating saved him from his, truthfully unwanted, conversation with Diggle._

_"Yep," he sighed._

_"Are you near the club?" his little sister's voice filled his ears and he cringed at her question._

_"I'm pretty close," he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, where no doubt Thea stood somewhere above him. "Why?"_

_"Laurel's here. She doesn't look good," he could hear the hesitancy in her voice._

_He had Felicity pull of the club's camera's and when he saw Laurel swaying at the bar, he knew he'd be driving her home._

_He walked up to the club, taking his time knowing that Thea wouldn't let Laurel leave in her condition. When he reached the bar he heard her asking for something to drink—something with a lot of olives._

_"How about coffee?" he recommended._

_"Coffee and olives? Bad combination," she looked disgusted, and under different circumstances he might have laughed a little. Usually, Laurel was so reserved, so careful, and historically, she had been the one dragging his sorry ass out of clubs too wasted to even walk home._

_"What are you doing?" he tried not to sound judgmental, but he had thought Laurel was stronger than this._

_"This is where it's happening, right? The big club?" she looked at him, hearing judgment even if it wasn't there. She took her martini from the bar tender and Thea decided she'd try to run interference._

_"Laurel, go home," Oliver had to look at his sister. Sometime between the time he came back from the island and now, Thea had grown up, and she just sounded tired._

_"Thea Queen, telling me enough is enough," Laurel joked. Oliver bristled at her words, but he just watched as Thea took Laurel's drink. "Now that is rich," she laughed as if she had made a joke instead of just making a joke of her life. When no one laughed with her she continued. "Fine. Bar me from your bar. That's today's theme, right?" Disbarment," at that, Oliver paid attention._

_"Laurel, are you being disbarred?" he knew how much her law career meant to her, how hard she had worked for it and how much she had sacrificed._

_"Yeah, looks like my law career is over," she said flippantly. "But you know what? Maybe Thea here can hire me as a waitress. Or, maybe Ollie I could come be your secretary," she turned into him, touching his shoulders and he bristled at the contact. "But that means you would have to fire her," Laurel glared over Oliver's shoulder._

_"Hi, Laurel, how are you?" Felicity's soft voice floated through the club and Oliver flinched. He knew what this would look like to Felicity._

_So he reached for Laurel's keys. He had to do something to stop the hurt look spreading across Felicity's face. And God save him if he was willing to sacrifice Laurel to do it._

_"Did you need to borrow my car?" Laurel joked. She laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling close and he didn't respond, he refused to acknowledge her. _

_"Oliver, can I talk to you for a second?" Felicity's voice from behind him sounded strained, and he cringed._

_"Get her a cab, please," he looked at Thea, still refusing to even look at Laurel. This was not the girl he wanted to remember._

_When he walked back to Felicity, she didn't even spare Laurel a glance, and for that he was grateful. She immediately started filling him in on the fingerprints she had been running. She probably hadn't even thought about it, but he felt her hand rest lightly on his forearm and refocused his thoughts._

_When he watched her walk away, he knew what he had to do. He spared one last glance at Laurel as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the one person he knew could help her._

_"Hi, it's Oliver. I just ran into Laurel and something's wrong," he stated as if he was talking to an old friend, and in a way he was._

_"Ollie, I can't—"_

_"She needs you," he cut Sara off, not willing to listen to her excuses tonight._

_"Can you give me five minutes? I know you're heading out, but Ollie, it's important, and it involves you too," she breathed._

_He hung up, knowing that she would take that to mean yes. He also knew that she wouldn't be far away._

Within five minutes Sara met him on top of Verdant.

"We don't have long," he stated. He had too much to do tonight and it wasn't safe for them to be seen together this close to the people they both cared about.

"We're not safe here Ollie," she looked at him and for the first time since she stepped on the roof he noticed the fear in her blue eyes.

"What do you mean?" he knew she was talking about more than the normal 'not safe.'

"The League, they are looking for me, and Ollie, I'm so sorry, but they know about you too. I had to warn you. We need to leave, now—"

"I can't just leave!" he shouted, stepping towards her and she didn't even move to defend herself. "John and my mother and Thea and Fel—" he stuttered, refusing to think of the hurt face he had just left in back in the club.

"You cannot hate me any more than I hate myself," she muttered.

"You can't leave either," he stated, sounding more sure of himself than he felt. "Your sister, she _needs_ you Sara. And even if you were to leave, they would use your family to bring you back. You are the best person to protect them. And you know I will help—I owe you that much."

"Is it really that bad Oliver?" she used his full name, deathly serious.

"She's free-falling. You need to give her focus, Sara," he looked her in the eyes.

"Ok," she shook her head and Oliver knew she was trying to convince herself. "I don't know when and I don't know what will happen, but I will warn you as best I can before the League arrives. The man at the bar tonight, he was one of their sources, so it won't be long."

"I noticed him too. We've made a mess of things, haven't we?" he rolled his eyes towards the sky, wondering when this would end.

"We are nothing Oliver," she turned, walking away from him, before she turned back and said, as if an afterthought: "We are nothing but dust and shadows," and with that she disappeared into the night. Oliver only hoped she would eventually make her way to Laurel's.


	8. Chapter 8: Sold Souls and Lost Toes

_She was listening to Oliver and Diggle discuss Roy's involvement in tonight's mission. Before she knew it she was babbling._

_"When I found out who you really were, I processed my way through a pint of mint chip," she scrunched her nose as Oliver chuckled. "I stress eat," she explained further. This caused a full on half grin. She would walk hot coals to see that smirk. "Speaking of stress, didn't this all start because you were worried Roy's marble collection was on the short side?" so much for hot coals._

_"She's right Oliver. Roy's a loose cannon. Now he knows your secret," at least Diggle was backing her up._

_"You're right," Oliver agreed, and Felicity was blown away that he didn't even argue. "I wasn't thinking about the consequences. I only knew that I needed his strength—his power. On the island, Sara told me that love is the most powerful emotion," Felicity felt her face burn when Oliver leveled his gaze directly at her, but she didn't shy away this time, she only stared back as he continued. "Well, the Arrow couldn't get Roy to think about Thea, but I could."_

_She watched as he drifted off to some faraway place, wherever he went when he escaped inside his head._

_"Ok," she said simply._

_"Ok what?" Oliver asked, shaking his head, slightly confused._

_"We want to meet him too," she looked at John, because she knew that he needed to agree to this too, but she also knew that he trusted her judgment on this._

_Later, as Oliver came down the stairs she couldn't help but smile as Roy worried that Oliver would kill him._

_"How many people know who you are?" Roy questioned. She had to give it to the kid, he was inquisitive._

_"Too many," Oliver sighed and Felicity had to smirk. Oliver did have some poor judgment occasionally. "But these are the only ones that matter," as he continued her heart swelled at his words. Even if this is all she was in his life, she still mattered, and that counted for something—what they did counted for so much more._

_"John Diggle and Felicity Smoak," as Oliver introduced them, she and John approached._

_"Does this group have a name?" Felicity smiled at yet another question. "Like 'Team Arrow' or something?" and at that she almost gave the kid a hug. Before she could, Oliver's gruff voice interrupted._

_"We don't call ourselves that!"_

_"I do occasionally!" she stated enthusiastically. There's no reason this couldn't be just a little fun. _

_"Stop," Oliver said, but he wasn't using his grumpy voice so she assumed she was forgiven._

_"Whatever, welcome aboard," Diggle extended his hand as he smoothly interrupted the look passing between Felicity and Oliver._

Felicity watched Roy's face as he shook Diggle's hand and then as he took in the surrounding Arrow Cave—another pet name she had come up with one evening while she had been waiting for her updates to finish.

"So the playboy billionaire is actually the Green Arrow," Roy pointed out as he looked around at his new comrades. "The old IT girl turned EA—by the way _everyone_ thinks you're sleeping with said billionaire playboy—is the brains of the operation. And the black driver is the sidekick!" Roy eventually looked at Oliver and Diggle's faces and flinched at their deathly stares, but Felicity only smiled; this kid lacked a filter and she could most definitely relate.

"Let me show you around," Diggle said. "Before Oliver rethinks putting another arrow through your leg—or worse," he muttered as he led the newest recruit away.

When the guys were both out of ear shot, Oliver pinned Felicity with a stare and she couldn't help but squirm.

"Team Arrow?" he questioned with a smirk.

"Well, we had to have some sort of name," she stuttered, trying to decide if he was truly upset or not. She decided diversion was her best tactic. "And if I gave up my hard-earned IT position after spending four years working my ass off at MIT to not _only_ become your executive assistant—aka fancy words for secretary—but _also_ have an office of people whom I work with assume I'm sleeping with my boss—" she stopped abruptly when she realized what she was implying. Sex was so not her best form of diversion.

Fortunately, Oliver only grinned further and from somewhere behind a desk pulled out a pint of mint chip ice cream.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked, pasting on his most charming blue-eyed smile.

"Only if you happen to also have spoons, because I don't think I'm talented enough to eat off your arrows," as if her words were magic he pulled out two spoons and she didn't pause to consider their sanitation. She wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

When he pulled off the lid of the ice cream in one easy motion and in one more had a bite in his mouth she couldn't help but stare. He was usually very careful about what he put into his body and sugary frozen substances usually didn't pass his test.

"You recommended that stress eating was a helpful tactic," he stated lightly as he passed her the container as he took a seat in front of her monitors.

"And your admitting to being stressed?" she treaded lightly, not sure how willing he was to talk about his day. He had extended the offer to her when she first agreed to help him fight these battles, but he had very seldom felt the need to reciprocate.

"I don't know," he shrugged simply and yet again she was struck by his honesty.

"You think that you can save everyone Oliver. You just can't," she said back. She tried to stay on the same level of simplicity as he had.

"I just want to save the people I care about. At the end of the day, they're the only ones that matter," he looked at her and she knew that she was on that list. She also knew the lengths he was willing to go to save her. And she knew that she had to set the record straight.

"You think that list is shorter than it is. You obviously cared about Shado or her death wouldn't have affected you the way it had. You cared about Slade enough to try and save him. You care about Diggle enough to fly to Russia and break foreign law to invade a prison to avenge his personal vendetta. You care about Roy enough to try and save him from himself. You cared about Laurel tonight even though it meant that you had to walk away," she looked at him then because she knew that Oliver leaving Laurel at the bar had not been easy. But he didn't even respond to her name.

"I care about you—about what happens to you," he amended. "You think I'm a hero, Felicity, some sort of Superman. But when push comes to shove I'm just a man who can barely save himself and I'm just afraid that when the time comes—" he stuttered, looking for the right words and Felicity tried to tell him it was ok, but he held his hand up, stopping her. "When the time comes for me to save the people that mean the most to me, I won't. I will fail you," he looked at her, his eyes pleading.

She knew it wasn't a fear, it wasn't a deep seeded anxiety. It was a warning. So she held her ground. She reached over and took his hand, refusing to abandon him or their mission.

"I wasn't like other girls who grew up on the lies fed to them by Disney—I never expected a white knight and I always knew that true love came at the cost of sold souls and lost toes. I don't think I could tell you the exact moment that I learned that I would have to save myself if I wanted to make it out of this alive, but if I had to take a guess it happened sometime soon after hearing, 'My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood,'" she smirked at him, but she stopped when she didn't see the sentiment returned on his face.

"You deserve better than this life," he looked around, and when his eyes finally came to rest on hers he just looked sad.

"So do you Oliver, so do you," she responded, because how do you respond to that but with the truth?


	9. Chapter 9: Impasse

A/N: So, I like every other fan of Felicity was very disappointed with Heir to the Demon. I do think that Sara is a better alternative than Laurel and I see some interesting paths for the season because Sara has been released from the League, though, so I won't complain too much. I'm going to keep up with this little work, but I think I'm also going to start a piece about my prediction for where the season is headed. Let me know if anyone is interested! Like always, thanks for the support and I don't own anything!

* * *

_She had talked to Walter and for the second time in her life she realized that she had lost someone in her life that she thought she could trust. As she waited in the foyer of the Queen mansion, she reminded herself the price that she paid for allowing her heart to outpace her mind._

_"Mrs. Queen will see you now," the woman who had opened the door ushered her in to the room as Felicity considered the fact that, despite the Ice Queen having been widowed, remarried, and divorced since Mr. Queen's death, she had kept his last name all those years._

_"If you're looking for Oliver, he's not here," Moira lay on the couch, reading a book—Felicity couldn't help but think the title read something like "How to Conquer the World."_

_"I know, I'm here to see you," her heart was beating a mile a minute, but she reminded herself that Moira was nothing but a coward, too afraid to fight her own battles, so she fought them with bribes and threats._

_"Really? What about?" this sparked Moira's interest. She sat the book down and turned her full attention towards Felicity and Felicity took a deep breath and took a page from Oliver's book._

_"Tempest," straight to the heart of the matter. "I flagged a large wire transfer you made. When I mentioned it to Walter, he said he would talk to you about it. I could tell in his face he wouldn't. British people are really bad liars."_

_"Yes they are," she answered smugly._

_"So I looked into it myself—because, full disclosure—I don't trust you. You paid a substantial sum of money to a Dr. Gill. He was the doctor who delivered Thea, which, didn't make any sense to me. So I went through, like a dozen different theories until I remembered, your testimony, at trial. You had an affair with Malcolm Merlyn one year before Thea was born," she paused, waiting for Moira to own up to what Felicity was about to say, to apologize, to do anything that showed some sign of remorse. When she didn't Felicity continued. "Merlyn is Thea's father."_

_"I can see why Walter and Oliver have such a high appraisal of your capabilities," Moira stood and Felicity almost took a step back, but she stood her ground. "So. What are you going to do with this information?" Moira questioned._

_This brought Felicity up short. She hadn't wanted to do anything. She just wanted Moira to make the right decision._

_"Felicity," Moira spoke her name, bringing her back to the conversation. _

_"I don't know," she shrugged. "Confronting you in your living room was as far as my plan went," she paused, thinking Moira would make the next move. When she didn't, Felicity babbled, because that's what she did when she felt uncomfortable—and she was most definitely out of her element. "I thought you deserved the chance to tell Oliver yourself. He should hear it from you," and that was Felicity realized she had revealed her hand—she wasn't here about the bribes or the affair or even the fact that Thea was Malcolm's daughter—she was here for Oliver._

_"I'm not going to tell my son anything, and neither are you," she turned, confidence in her eyes and this time Felicity did flinch at the woman's assurance. "If you won't keep my secret for Oliver's sake, you should keep it for your own," Felicity nearly whimpered, but Moira continued, driving the knife deeper. "I see the way you look at him. If you tell him this, you will rip his world apart and a part of him will always blame you. Oh, he'll hate me for sure, but he will hate you too. We all have to keep secrets Miss Smoak."_

_And just like that Felicity turned and ran, her tail tucked between her legs. Now, here she stood in front of Oliver, a crowd of people around them and he was focused on getting her to admit what was wrong. And when he wanted something—he got it._

_"What is going on?" his hand rested on her shoulder and she drew silent strength from it._

_"Might have noticed that I talk a lot," she rambled. _

_"It has not escaped my attention."_

_"You might have also noticed that I don't talk a lot about my family. My mother, is my mother," she rolled her eyes. Her crazy, scatter-brained mother. "And I don't really know what my father is because he abandoned us. I barely remember him, but I do remember how much it hurt when he left," God, Felicity, she thought to herself, get to the point. "And just the thought of losing someone that important to me again…" she was going to cry, she was going to cry right in the middle of the giant room full of important people._

_"Hey," Oliver stepped closer. "You are not going to lose me. Whatever it is that's bothering you. Is it about your family?"_

_"No," she whispered, but she knew that he could hear her. "It's about yours."_

To this moment she still isn't exactly sure how she told him that his mother had not only had an affair on his father, but that said affair had resulted in a love child that was now Thea, his half sister. She was currently sitting in the Arrow Cave, trying her best to calm herself after the, truthfully, god-awful events of the last few days.

"Felicity," Oliver's voice filled the room and she flinched. She had bailed on Moira's press conference after she assured herself that Oliver wasn't going to go all Arrow-like on his mother on local news.

"Oliver," she turned her chair, her voice mocking his serious tone. She didn't want to have this conversation right now. She had had to deal with his mom's psycho threats, his pleading with Sara to stay, and she went emotional-Felicity on him in the middle of a room full of people.

"We need to talk," he leaned into the desk beside her as he spoke, wearing his serious voice.

"I gathered that much," she muttered.

"Why didn't you think that you could come to me and tell me this?" his voice sounded pained and when she looked into his eyes they looked even worse.

"Oliver," she didn't want to tell him that his mother had threatened her—not her life, her heart. That was _not_ a discussion that she wanted to have with him ever, and most certainly not right now.

"Felicity, there is nothing you could say to me—or do for that matter—that would cause me to turn my back on you. You've fought so hard for me, I owe you that much in return," he hesitantly reached over and took her hand and it was her undoing.

"She threatened me," she whispered. She had meant to continue, but Oliver's grip tightened to a painful level and he looked like he did behind the hood.

"I will kill her," he turned, pacing, unsure of what to do with Felicity's information.

"No! Oliver!" Felicity reached for him, trying to make him understand. She grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. "She knows that I, that I—I care for you and she was willing to use that against me. She thought that I would be unwilling to risk losing you, but Oliver, I swear to you, I would have told you—"

"Felicity," he hushed her by putting a finger over her red lips and it sent a shiver through her spine. "You. Will. Never. Lose. Me."

For one brief moment, Felicity stored the way that Oliver's finger felt on her face—rough, but gentle. And then she stepped back.

"Oliver, this isn't an ultimatum," she had thought about these words a thousand times since her conversation with Moira. "I'm not going to make you choose, because I believe in what we do and quite honestly I'm selfish enough to want you however I can have you—even if it's only half of who you are. But someday Oliver, someone is going to realize how I feel about you, and they are going to use that—either against you as Oliver Queen or as the Arrow—and you're going to have to choose how you feel about me too," she shut her eyes, refusing to look at his face.

"Felicity, I—"

"No," she interrupted. She knew he wasn't ready and right now she was ok with that. "You are stuck in your past—it used to be with Laurel and now that Sara is back, you need to work things out with her. I _understand._ Just know that someday, you're going to have to decide between your past and your future."

"You're too good for me," Oliver said as he studied her face.

Just then Diggle walked down the foundry stairs.

"I was just grabbing my stuff before I headed home for the night. Oliver, Sara will probably be headed back over soon. I don't think things went as well as she expected with Laurel," he was talking to Oliver, but he was looking at Felicity, making sure she was ok. He knew that the ground she and Oliver traveled was delicate.

"I'll grab my things and head home too," Felicity said as she packed her tablet. She knew that Oliver and Sara needed a chance to talk.

"Wait," Oliver grabbed her arm as she passed. "Where does that leave us?" she knew he was asking if they were ok—he still needed his girl Wednesday.

"An impasse."


	10. Chapter 10: How Awful Goodness Is

_"Are you ready to introduce your mother?" the man heading his mother's campaign asked with a charming smile._

_"With pride," he answered with his own. He was still distracted by Felicity's reaction to his mother's approach and he became even more concerned when she flinched at his response. He trusted his instincts when it came to life-or-death situations, but when it came to people, he would always trust Felicity's. _

_So he grabbed her by the elbow and towed her to the side before he took the stage._

_"Felicity," he over-enunciated each syllable of her name, wanting her full attention and wanting her to know that he would stand there all day until she told him what was bothering her. "What is wrong—"_

_"Nothing—" she tried to interrupt, but he was ready._

_"—and don't say 'nothing.'" He finished. He leveled his gaze, unconsciously taking a step closer to her in an attempt to shield her from several hot gazes he could feel burning his back_

_"Might have noticed I talk a lot," she mumbled out quickly and he almost laughed._

_"It has not escaped my attention," he answered softly, willing to wait for her to feel comfortable enough to tell him whatever she felt so afraid to say aloud. And she was afraid—the tension radiated off her small frame._

_"You might have also noticed I don't talk a lot about my family. My mother," she rolled her eyes, looking for the right words, but he didn't rush her. "Well, she's my mother. And I don't really know what my father is because he abandoned us. I barely remember him, but I do remember how much it hurt when he left, and just the thought of losing someone that important to me again…" her voice broke as tears threatened to spill over. Oliver wanted to do anything within his power to make this right and yet he had never felt so helpless._

_"Hey," he whispered softly, stepping closer. "You are not going to lose me. Whatever it is that's bothering you," he stressed. Anything—anyone—that was hurting her would pay. "Is it your family?"_

_"No," she whispered and he leaned in closer, confused. "It's yours."_

She looked up at him, her blue eyes like crystal and for just one moment his heart stopped. He turned to see Thea smiling and laughing on the stage, healthy and happy. His mother was looking at him with concern—and something else, something darker—but there was no immediate threat.

"I don't understand," he looked at Felicity, knowing that whatever was going on was serious enough to have her afraid and that meant it was a severe threat. She looked hesitant and she spared one last look at his mother before she looked at him, determined.

"Your mother transferred a large sum of money from the Tempest account that had been set up after the whole ordeal with the Gambit which I'm sure you remember—of course you remember, you where _on the boat—_anyway, a few weeks ago she transferred two million dollars to the doctor that delivered Thea," she looked at him as if that was supposed to make sense.

"Felicity," he muttered. She was brilliant, but she still hadn't caught on to the fact that his brain did not work as fast as hers did.

"It didn't make sense to me either, but I did some digging and well Oliver, I—the trial, and I dug up some DNA reports after Thea was born and her affair with Merlyn—and it all made more sense," Felicity looked at him, pointedly.

"Felicity," he whispered. He needed her to say it. He knew that she knew that he had been with enough women to know about the possibility of illegitimate children and he refused to believe that Thea, _his sister,_ was the result of his mother's poor decisions.

"She's Malcolm Merlyn's daughter, Oliver, and Mrs. Queen paid the good doctor a large sum of money to keep that well hidden," Felicity looked at him with her brave face on and he suddenly realized why she was afraid to tell him. The phrase _don't kill the messenger came to mind._

So he did something completely out of bounds for their relationship. He bent slowly forward so that Felicity would understand exactly what he was doing. Her eyes widened, but she didn't back away as he placed a kiss delicately against her temple. As he turned to walk towards the podium, he looked directly at his mother.

* * *

Now, he worked his frustrations out on the dummy to the point of physical pain. He welcomed it. When one reached the point of emotional numbness, it was nice to know that he could at least feel _something._

When Sara walked into the Arrow Cave—god, he was even using Felicity's pet names—he honestly couldn't even remember what they had said to each other before he had fisted his hands into her blonde hair.

Blonde hair that he couldn't help but, briefly, wish were someone else's.

When he ripped her shirt over her head he found himself amazed at the now unfamiliar body underneath. Where once there had been curves and lines of soft skin, now was hard muscle and proof of the last 6 years of hell. He and Sara shared history, pain, and scars. They were both dark.

And for right now, he needed that darkness to hide his sins, to hide his mother's sins; he wore it like a cloak.

Later, Sara caught him standing over Felicity's computers, trailing his fingers up and down the keys.

"You've changed, Oliver," she looked at him, a small smile forming on her lips and he laughed once without humor.

"Of all of the people who will lose their soul in this war, she is the one I will never forgive myself for. I used to think that Laurel was my greatest sin—for what I did to her, to you," he looked at her, knowing that Sara would know what he meant. "But Felicity never should have been a part of this life."

"But now she is," she said simply. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," he whispered. Sara was the only woman he could think of that would allow him to have his hands all of her and immediately afterwards talk about someone else. She understood.

"I like her," she said, and when Oliver looked at her, eyebrow raised she smacked him, a true smile on both of their faces. "Not like that! She's safe from me Ollie," she laughed, smacking him again. "She makes me feel normal. When I first showed up, she made some joke about me joining the League—compared it to a time she joined a gym," she rolled her eyes, but Oliver laughed.

"Felicity and exercise don't really mix," he explained as he shook his head fondly. He fired up one of her computers and turned on the tracking signal for her tablet—she wasn't the only one could use basic GPS.

He looked at it for a long moment as Sara walked towards the tire and hammer he had been working out on earlier. When the signal hadn't moved for several minutes, he felt Sara's hand lightly on his back.

"Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely—and pinned his loss."


	11. Chapter 11: It Goes On

A/N: So, like everyone else, I was upset with the closing events in "Heir to the Demon." Unfortunately, I think they are events that are going to continue, in some form for awhile. Sara is going to stick around for awhile at least, and I do like her, so I wrote a bit from her perspective. It's hard to figure out her character, because, in my opinion, she's more reserved than Oliver. Hope I got it close, though! Thanks for the support, as always, I don't own anything.

* * *

_In three words, I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on._

Sara lay on the cot that Oliver had given her before he had left for the office. It was odd, really. Six years ago she would have never envisioned Ollie Queen, playboy billionaire, running Queen Consolidated. Although, six years ago, she never would have thought that her life would be where it was now.

She heard the footsteps coming down the foundry steps and she knew who it was before she saw Oliver's confidante; the steps were too heavy to be Oliver's and not staccato enough to be Felicity's.

"John," she said as she stood. It wasn't that she necessarily distrusted this man, it was just that she had gained an overall distrust of men in general.

"Sara," he said, equally formal. "Sorry about your family," he said as he crossed his arms over his large chest. He obviously wanted to say something, but didn't feel comfortable enough around her to say it.

"Mr. Diggle," she straightened, looking him squarely in the eyes. "I have no feelings left to hurt. So whatever you have come to say, say it," he looked at her, obviously admiring her straightforwardness.

"Oliver thinks he can save the world," Diggle began, and Sara laughed, without humor. "That includes everyone in it," he raised his eyebrow. "When he first realized you were still alive, after thinking you were dead, _twice,_ he thought that he had another chance, a third chance. Most people only get two," he looked at her, not sure how to continue.

"Most people only deserve one," she murmured. For a long time she had blamed Oliver for all of the bad things that had happened in her life—for taking her on the yacht, for everything that Ivo had done, for what the League had made her. Then she realized that the common denominator in all of those decisions had been her.

"True," John conceded. "You're staying, aren't you?" he looked at her and she knew that he was asking her to leave, knowing that she was going to stay.

"For now," she looked him in the eyes, refusing to back down.

He only shook his head. "Sara," he paused, deciding if he should continue and this time she hoped he would stop. She had taken enough drama for awhile. "Two broken people, they can never make a whole," he looked at her and she didn't see judgment, but probably the same distrust that was mirrored in her eyes.

She nodded, knowing what he was saying. She didn't love Oliver. She doubted that Oliver truly loved her. The darkness in him called to the darkness in her and their broken parts had been created together, fitting perfectly.

But she had been watching Oliver. She had always been able to study people, noticing things about them that they would never notice about themselves. Oliver was different, lighter. She thought that it had something to do with that fact that he had stopped killing since Tommy's death. It was the reason she had given Nyssa about leaving the League, and it was legitimate. Oliver had survived what she had been through, perhaps worse, and yet he still found a way to _live_.

Then she realized the secret.

Felicity Smoak.

She knew that her sister held no small bit of hostility towards the blonde, but Sara actually really liked her, perhaps _because_ Oliver seemed to have an affinity towards the babbling IT genius, even if he didn't know it. The girl was a ray of light, fitting really, her name meant happiness.

And Oliver was like the moon, simply reflecting the sun.

She knew Oliver, maybe better than anyone. She knew that he had kissed her because he needed to feel _something_. Also, they had history, and they were both ghosts, still living in the past. Eventually, Oliver would have to decide if he wanted to live in the past, or the future, because deep down he knew that there was no future with her.

She didn't know Felicity, but she knew that the woman would be crushed to see Oliver with someone who didn't deserve him, and Sara knew that she didn't deserve him. She did know that Felicity would raise her petite chin and push her glasses up and continue to work just as hard as she always does. Felicity would never allow Oliver to see her cry, and Sara couldn't help but consider how much it would help the poor girl's case. Felicity was too selfless for her own good.

Sara sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She walked up the foundry steps and out into the sunlight for the first time in years without a mask, without the leather. Perhaps she could learn to live in her own light. For years, she had looked for someone else to save her—Oliver, Ivo, Slade, even Nyssa. She put herself in a lot of situations because she believed that if you wanted a hero to show up, you had to be someone in need of rescue. It hadn't proven to be an effective strategy.

It was time she saved herself.


	12. Chapter 12: Hell is Empty

Felicity sat hunched over her computers, furiously typing, eyes scanning two screens, and a headache forming at the base of her skull.

The two vigilantes grunting on the floor didn't help her concentration.

Granted, they weren't doing _it,_ well, if _it_ were training, then yes, they were doing _it._ Oliver had her pinned on the sparring mat, telling her ways to use leverage to avoid some type of entrapment.

"Damn it," Felicity muttered under her breath when one of her computer screens dinged with the information she had been waiting on. She was concentrating so hard on the medical information blurring across her screen that she hadn't noticed the lack of sound coming from Oliver and Sara.

"Something wrong?" Oliver asked behind her.

"Oliver!" she nearly shouted, jumping surprised. "Practice your ninja skills on—well another ninja," she motioned towards Sara who was drinking from a water bottle, trying to become one with the wall.

"I wanted to know if you found something," he asked, trying to look innocent. Felicity wanted to shout at him, wanted to shout at everyone, actually.

"It's nothing," she mumbled, as she minimized the tab. Oliver immediately recognized the lie in her voice and pushed her rolling chair out of the way, maximizing the screen as he did.

"Berry Allen's medical records?" Oliver's voice suddenly sounded hesitant, with a small undertone of hostility. Felicity couldn't help but notice that Sara moved closer, a small smirk on her face.

"It's none of your business!" Felicity tried to push back to her computers, but Oliver wouldn't let her close.

"Why are you _hacking_ Barry Allen's medical records?" Oliver questioned, using 'hacking' as if it were an expletive.

"Oliver, what have I told you about 'hacking?' It's such a negative word," she mumbled. "There are some things that are out of range, I mean, he's in a coma, so there's obviously _a lot_ out of range, but there's something else that's just _off._ Unfortunately, he's the medical expert, so I just can't seem to figure out what it means," she took a deep breath, watching Oliver's tension grow with each word.

"Felicity," Oliver said, inadvertently moving closer. Her other monitor dinged, warning her of another stream of information and saving her from a potentially awkward conversation with Oliver.

"Oh, now _that's_ important," she pointed at the screen and Oliver allowed her to slide towards the keyboard. "So, I was looking into any information that could tie the man behind the Mirakuru to Blood. Blood has information stored—well, not really stored, more like, he had it, thought he deleted it, but I _hacked_ it—"

"Felicity!" Oliver interrupted her, bringing her back to focus.

"Right," she blushed. "Well, the information," she stuttered, she wasn't sure how to tell Oliver that someone was looking into the people associated with him.

"Felicity? Something is wrong," he lightly touched her wrist, which was furiously tapping the desk. She stilled, deciding that telling him this couldn't be any worse than telling him that Thea was only his half sister.

"Someone has been looking into the people closest to you. Your mother, Thea, Laurel, they even knew that Sara was still alive. They looked into John some, but, there really isn't much to find—although they somehow dug up some information about his stay in Russia. They have some information about me, oh and Roy!" she added quickly, not wanting to focus on how much information Blood had stored on her.

"_Who_ gave him this information," Oliver's voice was strained, his grip on the table tightening.

"That's the thing. Blood didn't cover his tracks very well, but whoever gave him the information? There's no trace, none, and trust me, I've tried for days. That's why it's taken me so long to tell you," she hated admitting that she couldn't find something online, that was why Oliver kept her around.

"It's ok, Felicity," Sara spoke up, stepping away from the walls when she heard the desperation in Felicity's voice. Sara grabbed Oliver's arm, probably before he could say anything stupid, and pulled him back towards the mats.

Felicity looked at the data that she had found from Blood's computer. Someone was going to hurt Oliver, and he was going to use the people he cared about to do it. It was one thing for Oliver to put himself in harm's way night after night, it was another for someone to seek Oliver out and willfully try to hurt him. Apparently they were willing to use those he cared about—use her—to do it, too. She knew the lengths Oliver was willing to go to protect her, further than even Laurel or Thea, and she didn't want him to kill on her behalf again.

It made Felicity _angry._ Without thinking, she walked towards Oliver and Sara, and tried not to focus on the way that their bodies worked perfectly together—one always fighting for control of the other.

"Sara," Felicity spoke, slightly louder than normal, trying to be heard over the noise. Like a gentleman, Oliver stopped and allowed Sara to look at Felicity.

"Yes?" Sara looked at her, and despite whatever relationship that had developed between Sara and Oliver since her return, Felicity only held Oliver responsible—he had been the one at the root of most of the recent bad decisions, and yes, she might be slightly bitter.

"Would you train me? You know, not like that," she vaguely motioned towards the pair. "But basic self-defense."

"Sure," Sara responded, walking towards Felicity the same moment that Oliver shouted "No!" and stepped between the two.

"Oliver, it's not your decision," Felicity looked at him pointedly and he moved aside. "My life, my call, remember?"

"No, not this," he grunted in his angry-voice. "Your job is to sit behind that desk, where I KNOW you are safe!" he shouted."

"Oliver—" Felicity started, but Sara interrupted, stepping between them.

"A war is coming, Ollie, and it's not going to stay out on the streets; it's going to seep into the pores of our lives and into the foundations of everything that we are. She needs to be prepared. You think you can save her, but you won't always be there and she needs to know how to save herself. Are you going to deprive her of that?" she looked at him, her eyes like steel and Felicity wanted to give her a high-five.

"Sara," Oliver argued, but he sounded defeated.

"Hell is empty Ollie, the devils are here," Sara shrugged, as she led Felicity towards the mats.


	13. Chapter 13: Weaker Than Man

A/N: Ok, so this is going to be my last update on this story until the show picks back up after the Olympics. There just isn't anything else to cover without getting too far off season. So! Shameless self-promotion - Check out my new story "Up to Re-Ascend." Similar character developments, just not sticking to the episode by episode play-by-plays like I have been. It's more of my predictions/hopes for the remainder of season 2. Also, thank you everyone for the lovely reviews and support. You are all so amazing and wonderful! Enjoy and I'll be back in two weeks when the show picks back up!

* * *

He was trying to run through his reps on the salmon ladder, but after the third thud of Felicity's body against the sparring mat, his bar missed the lip of the ladder and he barely had time to land without hurting himself. He stalked towards the two girls as he watched Sara wrap her capable arms around Felicity's neck.

"Enough!" he shouted. He didn't enjoy the emotions that accompanied seeing Felicity in danger. He didn't trust himself not to hurt Sara for even training with Felicity. He knew that Felicity needed at least basic training, but he had stopped Diggle soon after they had started and he didn't trust himself to work with her.

"Oliver she will never learn if she doesn't practice. You know the only way to protect yourself is to fight back," Sara murmured as she put Felicity on the ground yet again. To Felicity's credit, she slowly picked herself up off the mat, signaling Sara to try again.

"No!" Oliver shouted. He stepped between the two of them, touching Sara's arm silently telling her to take a walk, or go parkour, he didn't really care at this point.

When Sara had left the foundry basement he turned to face Felicity's wrath.

"I know you think this is a bad idea Oliver, but it's not—"

"My call," he finished. "I know. Which is why I'm going to help."

He explained the basic steps of what they were going to practice. He ran through the moves slowly, letting her practice as the attacker first. He didn't toss her to the ground, knowing that she wouldn't be able to move him even if she were able to get the move right.

"Now you practice," he turned towards her and she looked at him determined. He stepped towards her, as if he was going to attack her, and he realized suddenly why he couldn't do this—he couldn't look at Felicity as a victim. He couldn't see her as an enemy, as someone he could potentially have to hurt.

She made a move for his wrist and he did the one thing that he knew would stop her, he reached for her hips.

"Felicity," he whispered, strangled. "Stop. I can't, I just don't think—I can't look at you as someone I have to hurt," he finally managed.

"I don't understand," she looked at him, no longer determined and no longer angry, just concerned.

"When I fight, even when I train, it is fight or flight. With you, those aren't the options," he murmured, willing her to understand. He didn't know if he had the ability to explain.

She nodded, knowing he didn't want to say the words out loud.

"With you," he continued, an internal argument raging. "With you, it isn't fight, like it is with Sara, or flight, like it is with—well, everyone else. It's just, well, it's just _stay."_

"Oliver, I think that I might—" he would always wonder what she might have been trying to say.

"Ollie? I'm going to go have lunch with my dad. He called and well…" her voice trailed off as she saw Oliver and Felicity standing so close together and _not_ training. Oliver sighed, grateful that Sara wasn't the jealous type. If she planned on sticking around for awhile things would get interesting otherwise.

"Ok, do you want me to go with you?" he asked. He didn't really want to have a heart-to-heart dinner with Officer Lance, but he was trying to be polite. Lance had started to warm up to the Arrow, Oliver Queen was another story.

"You know what?" Felicity's too-happy-to-be-true voice interrupted his train of thought. "I think I need to go, so you guys have a great dinner," she grabbed her coat and gave Sara a genuine smile as she walked past.

"See you Felicity."

"Thanks for the training Sara," Felicity said before her blonde hair disappeared through the door.

Sara walked towards Oliver, but stopped a few feet away. She gave Oliver a coy look as she cocked her head to the side. He really hated when she studied him, but he had nothing to hide any longer from Sara.

"Oliver, someday you are going to have to wake up. You said you weren't a ghost. Stop letting people walk right through you."

"Sara, you and I, we're cut from the same cloth," Oliver looked at her as he spoke, trying to believe the words as they left his mouth. It was easier to be with Sara. They were the two sides of the same coin.

"No, you and I walked through Purgatory. They say the lucky ones escape, but honestly Oliver, we're still there. We're trying to claw our way back out. And if you're not careful, you're going to drag everyone you care about down to hell with you."

"Sara, I can't save them all. I can't save you and Felicity and my mother and Thea—"

"Then don't try. Because honestly Oliver? That's all we want—is for you to accept the inevitable. You're only mortal."

"That was one of the first things I learned on the island," he said, more to remind himself than to her. "Nothing is bred that is weaker than man."


	14. Chapter 14: Broken Pieces

A/N: Back from the break everyone! Ok, so I was reading an interview with Stephen Amell about the reason Sara and Oliver are together. Apparently there is supposed to be some epic backstory. I know we are desperately wanting Olicity, but I'm willing to wait and see where this goes for now. When I started, the story was to stick to the episode plots with some special Olicity moments, and that won't change, but I'm also going to keep Sara involved too while we wait to see what this background is. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

"You don't have to throw me a party, Ollie," Sara's light voice filled the room and it was nice to hear something other than sadness in its tone.

"You come back from the dead, you get a party. It's kind of a Queen family tradition," he smiled back at her as she walked off, but he caught Felicity's blonde hair twist back to her computers in an uncharacteristically unhappy manner.

"Hey," he asked, spinning her chair around so she had to face him. "Are you coming?" he asked. He knew that Sara would be there, and although she was great for her assassin abilities, he didn't think he'd be able to face his mother without Felicity.

"Oh, this thing with the hacker," she muttered, waving a hand in the air. "And I'm pretty sure your mother hates me. I don't want to intrude," she looked back at him, her blue eyes guarded.

"Listen, about me and Sara—"

"This isn't about you and Sara," she muttered, rolling her eyes. He wanted to throw his arms in the air in surrender. He might be good with women, but he very rarely understood them.

"Fine, then let me talk to you about me and Sara, because I need to explain it to someone," he knew it wasn't fair. He knew that he was asking Felicity to listen to him talk about his love life—or whatever was going on with him and Sara—when he knew the way that she looked at him. Somehow, though, he needed to explain, and he knew that she was selfless enough to listen to him, despite if he went about it like an ass.

"Oh please," she muttered, sarcastically. He continued anyway.

"Sara and I," God, he didn't even know where to begin. There was so much back story that he couldn't possibly explain the connection between him and Sara without explaining years on the island. "There's a lot more to the time that we were away than anyone knows," he said slowly, but this got her attention; he so very rarely talked about his time away that he knew it intrigued her. "She and I, we were broken together and somehow—" he stopped, fumbling for the right words.

"Those broken pieces fit," she finished for him.

"There's so much more to us than just this," he waved his palm, then let it drop weakly, disgusted at himself for being unable to explain.

"Ok," Felicity looked at him and he could see in her eyes that she would accept things as they were. She was good at that; he knew from the day that he had handed her a bullet riddled lap top that she would be able to roll with the punches—even if he was the one throwing them occasionally. "But two promises," she held up two fingers and he agreed immediately, he knew Felicity would never make him promise something he wouldn't want to give.

"Someday, you have to tell me these stories, not because I'm curious—which I am," she admitted, "But because I want to know _you."_ She held up her second finger, continuing. "Finally, when _I_ find someone, and I will Oliver, you can't run background checks on him and then threaten him in front of me," she raised an eyebrow and she was obviously referring to Barry Allen.

"He lied to you," he tried to argue, but her look shot him down.

"So did you, and you continue to do so," she pointed out. "Unless you want me to tell him how I spend my nights, I'm going to be lying to him too," she continued and Oliver felt guilt in the pit of his stomach. "We all lie, that doesn't mean you can interfere," she threatened. He shook his head weakly, unwilling to promise aloud.

"Call me if you get anything on this guy, ok?" he looked at her as he turned to leave. He hated leaving her here, but he knew that she wouldn't go. So he walked away.

He took a deep breath as he took a sip of Sara's drink. It was actually pretty good.

"I was a bartender in college," she shrugged. He felt guilty that, at the time, he hadn't even been concerned enough to know where she was working.

He looked at the 991 text from Thea and stepped away from Sara, only to see Laurel coming around the bar.

"I'm not here for a drink," she stuttered quickly. "I'm here to talk to my sister," he must have given her a look because she quickly added, "Don't worry, I won't kill her."

He turned to walk away, leaving them to mend things. On the ride back to the mansion, he considered the direction his life had taken; other than things with his mom, his relationships were going smoother. Laurel was trying to fix her relationships, he and Sara were working side-by-side, and he and Thea would somehow find a way to work things out at home. The people he cared about were finally coming together.

He held all of this in his mind as he walked into the formal sitting room, waiting for his mother to introduce her newest business partner.

"His name is Slade Wilson."

His eyes flashed to meet the cold face of a man he had once considered his friend. When Wilson grabbed his hand, though, Oliver knew, those days were long over.


	15. Chapter 15: It's Friday

Holy, bloody, _hell_ she had been shot.

Like, _really_ shot, with a real bullet, from a real gun, and somehow she had still managed to hack Tockman's phone and stop him before he freaking shot her again—talk about incentives.

She looked at him as he lay on the ground, motionless, and her blood cooled in her veins; she momentarily forgot the searing pain in her shoulder.

"Did I kill him?" she asked weakly, bile rising in the back of her throat as she spared a glance at Sara. The woman walked over the man, checking for a pulse before shaking her head and looking back at Felicity.

"No," she stated, walking back to Felicity. "You just knocked him unconscious."

"Oh good," Felicity sighed, the edges of her vision slightly blackening. "I wanted to be like you, ya know? But not the killing part—not that the killing part makes you a bad person because—well, ok never mind, I think it's a commandment or something, but I wanted to be like you because you're kind of kick ass," Felicity looked at the woman as her speech slightly slurred, hoping she understood.

"That's not a good thing sometimes," Sara whispered, and Felicity wondered if she was supposed to have heard, but she had, so she answered.

"You're strong," Felicity answered, finally stating what had been bothering all night. It wasn't Oliver, it wasn't Sara, and it wasn't the two of them together. This was about her.

"No, I survive," Sara stated shaking her head. "You _live_ Felicity and there's a difference. If anything, you're the strong one. It took a lot—I've been through a lot—for me to be as strong as I am today," Sara looked at Felicity and Felicity recognized the look of remembrance that crossed Sara face before she continued. "You kind of remind me of someone," she murmured. "The first time someone held a gun to my head, I cried, begging not to die. There had been someone else, someone—" Sara cut off, unwilling or unable to say who. "She took a bullet that should have been meant for me," Sara finished. Even behind the mask, Felicity could see the pain on Sara's face.

"Does this mean that I can be something other than adorable?" Felicity asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes," Sara looked at her, a smile on her face. "And I'm sorry Felicity, if things have been—"

"Felicity!" Oliver's voice came echoing down the stairs, causing both women to flinch. Felicity attempted to straighten, but she only hissed in pain.

"She's here, Oliver," Sara answered, moving so he could kneel next to her. "The bullet went straight through, but she's going to need a hospital."

"Ok," Oliver stated as he moved to pick Felicity off the floor.

"No!" Felicity tried to sound sure and brave, the way that Oliver and Diggle always did when they were injured, but at just that moment Oliver jostled her shoulder and it sounded more like a whimper.

He quickly sat her down, his hands hovering over her body, unsure where to touch her.

"No hospital," Felicity commanded. "They'll want to know why and where I was shot. Sara can do it," she glanced at Sara, hoping that she wouldn't mind being volunteered for the task.

"Absolutely not!" Oliver roared in his angry voice, while Sara winked and nodded behind him.

"Dig," Felicity muttered, glaring up at the man, willing him to side with her. "You owe me," she challenged.

He sighed, but he bent next to Oliver, lightly brushing him aside. He helped Felicity up and he and Sara began making their way out of the basement.

"I'm not happy about this," Oliver muttered behind them. "What the hell were you thinking, Felicity?" he continued his reprimand as they made their way to Diggle's car. "Was this about proving yourself? Getting back at him for destroying your Arrow Cave? Come on, I thought you were smarter than this!" Oliver accused.

Felicity took a deep breath; recently, it seemed that Oliver had been more and more upset with the way she did her work. First with inviting Barry Allen to assist in investigating the case, then in asking Barry Allen to save his sorry, dying ass, and then after she had taken her little mini-trip to Central City. She drew on the pain radiating in her shoulder and she let it propel the anger in her voice.

"Oliver Queen! This was about _my _specialty! I don't tell you how to sharpen your arrows so don't tell me how to hack—"

"She did it for me Ollie," Sara quickly interrupted. "She saved my life," she glanced at Felicity. Sara was obviously grateful, but she was also checking to make sure that interrupting Felicity's rant was acceptable. Felicity nodded; she wasn't sure she could be held responsible for what she was saying right now.

"What?" Oliver whispered, looking between the two women. He was obviously wondering what had changed between the two.

"Tockman had pointed the gun at me and I was too far away to do anything," Sara explained. "Felicity shoved me out of the way."

Oliver shook his head numbly and he remained silent for the ride back to the foundry. He told Sara to find one of her extra shirts and he wordlessly handed it to Felicity as she made her way to the medical equipment.

"Here," Diggle handed her three white pills, and she looked at them suspiciously.

"No meds," she shook her head. When he glared at her, she explained. "It's not a 'just say no' thing, Dig. My mouth has no filter normally, it's _really_ bad when I've taken pain meds," she looked back at the pills nervously.

"They're just aspirin," he said, rolling his eyes. "Trust me, you're going to need them," he finished as he walked off.

She looked at them one last time, checked to make sure no one was looking, then popped them quickly in her mouth.

Seconds or minutes or hours later, she wasn't _really_ sure, Sara pulled her shirt over Felicity's shoulder, signaling that she was all done. Felicity took a moment to consider the _strange_ feeling of the fabric against her bare skin…

"Felicity," suddenly Oliver was standing in front of her and Sara and Diggle had left them alone. He was _really_ close.

"Oliver," she stated, matching his serious tone. "I don't think those were aspirin," she muttered as she looked at her hand in front of her face. Oliver took it and set it in her lap.

"Diggle suggested that you might be—I don't know, with me, and—Sara," he finished awkwardly. Under normal circumstances, she might have blushed, but now she just giggled.

"This wasn't about you," she stated, trying to recall that something that Diggle had said—to that effect—had made her angry earlier. "And it wasn't about Sara, or you and Sara!" she added heatedly, now she remembered! "This was about me. Not _everything_ that goes on in my brain is about Oliver Queen," _although a lot of it is,_ she added mentally to herself.

"Ok," he accepted.

"But I still need to know I have a place here, ya know?" she slurred. "That I'm your girl," she snorted as she caught her mistake—so much for proving her point earlier. "Not _your girl_ but your _girl_; trust me, they're different," internally, she was already plotting revenge on Dig for whatever he had given her.

Oliver looked at her for a moment and for a split second she thought that this was the moment that he would walk away. He would realize that IT girls and CEO billionaire playboys who secretly fight criminals did not run in the same circles. Somehow, for some reason, though he came closer, with a hesitant look in his eyes.

Then his hand cupped her face and before she could stop herself she leaned into his touch—a little too far. The room was spinning when she opened her eyes and she wasn't sure _which_ Oliver was the real Oliver, so she aimed for the one in the middle.

"You will always be my girl Wednesday," he smiled down at her.

"It's Friday!" she whispered, as she slid into his arms and he carried her to the car to drive her home.


End file.
